Memories of a Tortured Soul
by Vestque the Artist
Summary: She said that she needed to seem him. She said that they needed to talk. And so, he waits Mike Centric....Short Story. Complete.


Hi again! Got this idea very randomly last night, and grew on me. So, here it is.

Disclaimer: I do not own Characters other than my original ones….

Memories of a Tortured Soul

She had said that she wanted to see him.

She had said that they needed to talk.

He would admit, it had him a little worried. But she was strong.

A tough girl.

She would be alright.

So, he wasn't especially worried even though the message sounded troublesome. However, what he did worry about was the circumstances behind the sudden connection.

He had grown sour with her, sour over what he couldn't have. The last time she had talked to him was two week prior.

And never again.

But now, she contacted him, right from out of the blue.

He had to admit, the email did surprise him.

-

To: PizzaLovinThotmail.com

From: CassyBirdfrontiernet.net

I need to see you, Mikey. We need to talk.

-

That was all the email had said. Besides, it didn't need to say anymore. He knew where, and when; it didn't need to be stated.

That was her; simple, to the point…

And beautiful.

A pang went through his heart at the thought of her. She had been his first everything. His first romance, his first kiss…

His first lover.

And when she didn't contact him after that night,

His first breakup.

Or so he was lead to believe.

However, his heart had not been completely soured by her. Her smile still warmed his soul at the mere thought. He remembered how her eyes, her piecing blue eyes, seemed to look right into his core.

He could tell her anything, it seemed, _anything_. And she would not laugh at him.

She could never laugh at him.

His first real love, she was. Until…it just stopped. The calls, the emails, the visits. They just stopped after that night of passion they shared. He loved her, he really did. And he thought she loved him too, but now, he guessed he had been wrong.

She didn't love him. She never did.

It had been a set up, a set up to use him. That being the only thing he could come up with as to why she had hurt him so.

He made her the antagonist and hoped that the hurt would go away.

But his mind told him no to both.

She loved him, everything she did told him that (even if _she_ didn't). But she had also said that she was involved with a guy she did not love, but could not leave. And that made things…complicated.

She never talked to him after that…until now.

He made his way through the dark park, the trees around him buzzing lightly in the breeze. Entering the thistle of bush and shrubs, he pushed his way to the secluded clearing he knew was on the other side. Yeah, here and there, his coat would get caught on a bush or a branch, but that didn't matter.

All that mattered was just getting there.

Once in the clearing, he took off his hat, revealing himself to the world. There was no need for it now; it would just be him and her. No one else even knew about this place, so he was in no danger. He sighed, leaning against the nearby tree, his hands finding the pouches of his tan pockets. He turned his head, reading the carved script he knew was there.

Mike & Cass 4Ever

He remembered carving it; A surprise for his sweetheart. She had laughed when she saw it, but kissed him for it anyways.

'You're sweet Mikey. Naive, but sweet.'

He had melted at her words and her kiss, but saw her eyes dance nevertheless. His serenade had been a success. However, now that he looked at the words etched in the tree, where his heart would have filled with love, the pain stabbed at it at the harsh memories of what had followed that night.

She had already broken his heart, why was she coming back now? Did she not hurt him enough already?

And, why now? Why not the day after they "made love"? Why now, two weeks later when whatever was done, was done?

He sighed, his head bowing as a single tear fell down his green cheek. These questions have been plaguing him since he left the lair, but he knew, to get the answers he would just have to wait.

He would have to wait for the one and only that got away to come back to him one final time.

* * *

Cassandra hastily pushed the clothes into the bag, zipping it up as she did. She had to leave…_now._

Tim would be home soon.

This was not how it was suppose to go. She was suppose to be gone by now. He was supposed to come home to nothing but a letter…

-

Tim.

I am leaving you, and this time, you cannot stop me.

I am tired of your fists; I am tired of getting beat up. I am tired of your abuse and the years I've wasted in this relationship.

I have been seeing someone else, and I love him. And unlike everything else, you can't take that away from me.

By the time you read this, I will be long gone, and for that I am grateful.

I will be under your rule no more.

Goodbye, Tim, for the last and final time.

Goodbye.

-Cassandra

-

Her eyes now sought out that piece of paper, and found it, opened, and on the bed stand table. Amongst it were various small bottles of liquor and stray cigarettes.

And because of that, he would find it.

Her eyes once again fell to the task at hand as she hurriedly threw the single bag over her shoulder. She was supposed to be gone by now. She was supposed to be at least halfway to freedom.

However, she had gotten…sidetracked.

Her fingers brushed absently against the long piece of plastic in her pocket. It was positive.

She was pregnant.

At first she had been horrified, not having slept with Tim in over a month. Therefore, the father could only be the only other person she had had relations with.

Michelangelo.

It was only one time, but that was all it took.

She patted her stomach now, the warmth from within contracting greatly with the bitterness she felt. Mikey had been the only one she loved.

Not Tim.

But the fact that it took something like this for her to finally admit it to herself, it made her think.

She _loved_ him. She really did. No matter how much she fought it, the feeling would still be there,

The _love_.

All her life she had to fight, fight to live, fight to _survive_. However, now it seemed she had taken the fighting too far. Well, today she had come to a decision.

She would not fight this anymore. Those two weeks, she had been too scared to talk to him. She had been too scared to deal with the feelings he stirred within her, all of which were only enhanced after that night of passion. But now, she saw that she needed him. She needed him to live, to feel. He was her only outlet from the bitter cold life she led otherwise.

While she thought, her body stayed in constant motion, collecting the things that she needed. Her collection had brought her from the bedroom to the bathroom in her haste.

Throwing her toiletries into her purse, she almost missed her form in the mirror. But when she did catch it, fresh tears made their way down her swollen cheeks. Her left eye was almost swollen shut. The skin discoloration covered her entire face, making it hard for even her to look at.

But she did, she had to. She had to know the truth.

This was Tim. This was all Tim was capable of, and for that she hated him. Every discoloration, every bruise, every mark, was induced him.

By _his_ hands.

He had beaten her last night, this one being one of the worst ones yet. For a moment, as he pummeled her into submission, she had feared that she would die right there. She had thought that he would finally kill her, finally push her from this world to the next with those same fists.

But he didn't.

And now it was too late, she wouldn't let him. Not now, and not ever again.

She was running away with the one she loved and that would be the end of this nightmare. She even had it all planned out.

Mike and his brothers would take her in, all of them becoming a family. They would raise the child in love, and as normal as it could be. With loving uncles and parents, it would never know of hate or bitterness. It would be happy, just as a child should. She would give him that. It deserved to be happy, it did not disserve _this._ So, she was running away, if not for her own future, then for that of her unborn child.

That life seemed like such a distant dream, but she would make it a reality.

She looked at the clock. The realization of how close it was to when he came home made her eyes widened. She quickly shuffled into her jacket, the mere panic in her soul making it just that much harder. She had to leave _now, _the chances of her actually making it out becoming smaller with every second that past. She rushed back to the bedroom, prepared to make a mad dash for the door, but the sound of it opening and closing stopped her in her tracks.

He was home.

She nearly broke down as the chances of her getting away became zero to nil. However, she sobered up as another thought passed through her mind. She had always been a fighter, having fought all of her life,

And today would be no exception.

Almost as if on cue, he slumped into the bedroom. His beer induced stupor making him just that much more unpredictable. He was dangerous now, she knew that from experience, but she stood her ground as his yelling filled the apartment as well as her ears.

"What the hell are you doing, Woman?! Why isn't my dinner on the stove?!" He stalked towards her as he spoke, grabbing her hair roughly at the inquiry. A short startled gasp spilled from her lips before she fell silent all-together. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he was hurting her. She would not.

Under his grasp she hit him with a cold glare that even managed to make him hesitate. Her words were like venom as she spat. "I am not you're "Woman" anymore, Tim. I am leaving you, and this time, I am _not_ coming back." She stood her ground, and that seemed to be enough to jar him. His grip loosened on her hair as his intoxicated mind processed what she had told him. It was just enough time for her to wiggle from his grasp, and turn away. He scowled, finally understanding. She was leaving him.__

Him!

That little _bitch_ was leaving. Well, not if he had a say in it. Boiling in silently growing fury, he watched her make her way to the door, her hand finding the door knob that lead to her freedom. He snarled.

'She is mine, and she will stay mime!'

"You know, you're not going anywhere…"

She turned her head, turning the door knob as well. _'So close…'_ However, when she turned back at his remark, she did not catch sight of the gun in his grasp, nor of the murderous rage in his heart. Obliviously, she spoke, her words sounding as absolute as she felt.

"I _am_ leaving, Tim. It's over." She turned back, but the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking froze her in her tracks. Behind her, the loaded gun was brought up and into plain view.

It was pointed right at her.

His next words brought a chill down her spine and a dread in her heart.

"Oh, believe me. It _is_ over. This all ends now!"

Before she could blink or even run, an excruciating pain went through her as her vision went pure white. She fell back and towards him as the blood shot from the now gapping hole in her back. He watched her downfall, the gun smoking in his hand as he did.

Her gaze upwards, she watched him in silent fear as he approached her, his gun cocking once again.

All she could do was close her eyes, closing her eyes to the fact that she would die tonight. He would kill her right now. He would finish her off with one more gun blast, this time to the head, ending her miserable life instantly. She waited for that death, that bitter death that awaited her. She tensed as the gun went off, but with her next thoughts, she realized that she was still alive. She opened her eyes quick enough to catch Tim's falling form as the blood pumped out from the new hole in his head.

He had killed himself, that coward.

He took the easy route out. A quick death, as not to suffer the consequences of the soon to be murder. The consequences of her murder.

Her own heart beat pumped in her ear as her life escaped her, staining the carpet below. A Slow death. She closed her eyes again, this time her tears falling free.

This was it. In all of the visions she had about her death, she never imagined it would be like this. A guttural sob escaped her at the irony of it all. She had been running from the dirty dog, but in the end, the bitch still won.

She was killed by his hands.

Her vision darkened a little around the edges as she blinked. It was close. One last tear fell down her cheek, but this time it was not for her.

But for her one and only love.

He would never know how much he meant to her. She spent hours thinking about him, he being the only thing that kept her going, and he would never know.

And the worst thing about it was that she never got a chance to tell him how she felt.

She wished that she had contacted him sooner, just for the chance to see that goofy smile again, just to hear his laugh one more time.

His sweet laugh that made her soul bubble in delight at the sound.

Cassandra smiled as her vision darkened, the blood's flow slowing. Tears fell free at the fleeting life within her, that of her and her unborn child. She smiled wider, her mind blissful.

He would have made a great father.

Initially, she had contacted him to tell him that he was a Daddy and that she would never leave him ever again. Both of their lives would finally be 'happily ever after.' By then, everything would have been perfect, so she would have finally told him what she had been fighting over for weeks. The truth…

She loved him, more than he could even know.

"I love you, Michelangelo, and I always have and always will." She barely got the last few words out as she felt her life slipping from her grasp. She breathed once and then no more. With a slight smile and with only her memories of her happiness to guide her way, Cassandra welcomed the darkness, slipping away and into everlasting peace.

* * *

Michelangelo heaved a sigh, finally pushing himself from the base of the tree. His leg was cramped, but he ignored it.

She did not come.

She stood him up.

The sun's rays warmed his fallen face as it peaked over the horizon. He welcomed it, looking up as the starlets of tears fell from his eyes and trailed down his green cheeks. Slowly, he moved from the tree and began to walk away, leaving the clearing as well as the past behind.

What she had wanted to see him over? He would never know.

But he did know that he would not wait up for it.

He had waited long enough, both for her and for her love, and now it was time to move on.

He loved her; he always did, has, and will. But, he knew that this was how it was, and how it was meant to be.

Just him and his memories of happiness past.

He walked away from that clearing with nothing else but that. But as fate would have it, those were all he needed to grow happy again and heal his deep wounds.

His memories would serve him well.

A new day peaked over the horizon, as well as the new day of his present.

And just like the night of before, he had moved on, dissolving into the rays of a new day.

A new beginning.

-

What do ya think? R and R


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